


No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

by DearLesbian



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Minor Injuries, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22843417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearLesbian/pseuds/DearLesbian
Summary: "You open your mouth to say god knows what and are interrupted by a firm knock on the door. You both freeze, staring at each other. You run the math in your head. Find a strange unconscious woman, bring her to your apartment, and someone comes knocking. You come to the projected outcome soon enough."Reader finds an unconscious Sombra in an alley near their apartment and plays the part of the good samaritan.
Relationships: Sombra | Olivia Colomar/Reader
Comments: 40
Kudos: 151





	1. The Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote this a while ago and it's been sitting around in my google docs forever so i quickly edited it and decided to post it. it's a lot different from my other works i've posted on here. if there's interest i'll continue it. probably lol

On your evening walk home from the subway, you take your usual shortcut down the alley that spills next to your apartment building. Unusually, there’s someone slumped against one of the dumpsters. They don’t seem to be moving.

You swallow hard, an alarm ringing in your head. For a moment, you consider turning around and pretending like you never saw anything and guilt rests heavy in the pit of your stomach. You take a breath and approach slowly, looking for danger. Once at a safe distance, you take in the figure.

Two things become clear to you; the figure seems to be a woman and there’s a large, bleeding gash on her forehead. You swear quietly. The woman doesn’t stir and you swear again. 

A third thing becomes apparent to you; you have to do something. You weigh your options. You could call the police and pass any and all responsibility on to them. That option doesn’t sit quite right with you. There’s been a lot of local unease lately involving the police and disappearances and it has unsettled you and your neighborhood. 

You close your eyes and swear a third time. You don’t see any comfortable way around it. You’re going to have to bring her into your apartment. You won’t be able to live with yourself otherwise.

You kneel on one knee and lean in to pick her up. As you begin to lift her, something falls out of her hands. Wanting to get this over quickly, you pocket it without examining it closely. You lift her and luckily she’s smaller than you and not too heavy. You arrange her gingerly in your arms before making the walk to your apartment building’s entrance.

You make it inside without a fuss and, hopefully, you think, no one saw you. You don’t know why but this seems secret and covert. 

You are grateful you live on the first floor, not for the first time. Once inside your apartment, you lay her down on the couch and search for your first aid kit. You find it under your kitchen sink and return to the injured and unconscious stranger on your couch.

Briefly, you think about some of the many ways this could turn sour for you. You shake away those thoughts and press on.

You quickly find the small bottle of disinfectant in the first aid kit as well as a small patch of sterile gauze. Wetting the gauze with the disinfectant, you begin to dab at the wound on her head.

You are so drawn in your careful work that at first you don’t notice her hand move. It snatches yours away from her face and, startled, you go still.

You look down to meet her vivid, glaring eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she says.

“Cleaning the gash on your head.” You say calmly, realizing not for the first time that this was a volatile situation.

Her eyes narrow like you’re lying and she touches her forehead, flinching and hissing.

“Damn,” She says, eyes flying around like she’s cataloguing the room.

“Oh, you’re in -”

“Your apartment,” She interrupts you, strange eyes settling back on you. A corner of her mouth quirks up and then she rattles off your exact address, down to your apartment number.

You blink once. Twice. This is an unsettling development, “Do I want to know why you know that?”

She just shrugs, looking smug and smiling to herself.

“Right,” you say, mostly to yourself, “Of course this was going to be weird.”

You shift and an unfamiliar weight in your pocket reminds you of itself. “Here,” you say, fishing it out and holding it out to her.

She snatches out of your hand like lightning, “Where did you get that?”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes, “In the alley you were passed out in.”

She relaxes minutely and stows her strange device in some hidden pocket.

You look at her for a moment, “I’m not going to ask any questions, because I’m positive you’re not going to answer any.”

At this she grins, “We just met and you already know me so well!” She leans forward and pats your cheek and you feel your face grow warm.

You open your mouth to say god knows what and are interrupted by a firm knock on the door. You both freeze, staring at each other. You run the math in your head. Find a strange unconscious woman, bring her to your apartment, and someone comes knocking. You come to the projected outcome soon enough.

You take a steadying breath and say lowly, holding her gaze, “The fire escape access is in the bedroom. The security lock is broken.” You hand her the first aid kit, “There should be enough healing meshes in there.”

She looks at you and you can see the gears in her head spinning. She nods once.

You both stand at the same time and you walk toward the door. There’s another knock, this time more impatient. You look over your shoulder once at the door and she’s gone.

You take another breath and open the door. There are two nondescript men in nondescript suits on the other side.

“Yes?” You say in an even tone. If your hackles weren’t raised before, they certainly are now.

After confirming your identity, one of the men says, “We’re looking into a disturbance reported in this area.”

You keep your face carefully blank, “Oh, well, I only just got home.”

“Anything helps. Have you seen or heard anything strange?”

Two men in suits come knocking on my door past dark, among other things, you think. “Not really,” is what you say.

They pause, glancing at one another, “Are you sure?”

Your stomach drops and you’re suddenly sure that they know. “Yes” you say, firmly.

One of the men purses his lips, unhappy with your answer. You swallow back the terror creeping up your throat.

“Can I help you with anything else?” you say, steeling yourself internally.

He sets his jaw and begins, “Actually-” before cut off by a distant but loud scream followed by what sounds like firecrackers. You know it isn’t firecrackers.

The men disappear down the hall without sparing you a look. You quietly shut the door and slide the deadbolt into place. You hug yourself tightly and let out the breath you had been holding. You refuse to let yourself imagine what might have happened just then.

You sleep uneasily.


	2. The Follow-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sombra makes a second appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i AM continuing this!! it'll prolly have two more chapters after this, give or take. i don't expect it to change ratings b/c im not experienced with writing that kind of stuff

Life returns to an uneasy normalcy fairly quickly. You go about your life and pretend nothing happened. You think about her, of course. Perhaps too much. Maybe it’s just born of worry and maybe it’s born of something else more complicated and uncomfortable. You try not to dwell on it. You don’t succeed, but you try.

The break from weirdness couldn’t last, though; you knew that. Still, you’re startled enough to swear when you come home to find her in your apartment again two weeks later. She’s lounging on your sofa, flicking through a magazine. And you are absolutely positive that you locked the door when you left and had gotten the security lock on the fire escape fixed.

“Hey,” she says but doesn’t look up.

“Hi,” you say back because you’re at a loss for what to say. You don’t have a social script for this scenario.

“They bugged your apartment.” she says nonchalantly, like this is something that happens to people every day. Maybe it is, you think grimly. “I took care of it.” she adds while you digest this new information.

“Thanks?” you say, unsure if you should really be thanking her when she’s the reason your apartment was bugged. “How’s your head?”

She peaks out at you from behind the magazine, brow furrowed, “Fine.” she says dismissively, returning to the magazine, “You’re very boring, you know.”

You frown. Somehow you doubt this woman would make personal visits to people she finds boring.

When you don’t take the bait she continues, “You didn’t try to google me or anything.”

Ah, you think, a blow to her ego. “I think that would have been stupid since I’m pretty sure the people after you probably have access to my search history.” You point out.

She makes a thoughtful noise, “True.” She sits up and throws the magazine charade aside. You’re pretty sure you never bought that magazine, but you let it slide. She crosses her arms and looks at you like she’s trying to figure you out.

Your cheeks heat up and you go on the offensive, “Are you here for something or … ?”

“Why help me?” she says like she’s been wanting to ask that for a while.

You feel put on the spot, “Do I need a reason beyond good will to help somebody bleeding in a dark alley?”

She shakes her head, “No, I get that. People do stupid stuff like that all the time.” 

You huff, unsure whether to be offended or amused.

“When those thugs came,” she says, “you could have ratted me out and been done with it. Saved your own neck. It would have been easier to. Why didn’t you fuck me over? You don’t even know me.” Her eyes and demeanor are intense now and you sure that she won’t take ‘I don’t know’ for an answer.

You scramble for any answer, “I didn’t see any reason to hand over an injured woman to two threatening men. I went with my gut.”

Her lips thin and she considers your reply. She seems to accept it.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” You add sourly.

This gets a grin out of her, “I should probably thank you, huh.” She says, sauntering up to you.

You tense and your cheeks grow even warmer. You can’t think of anything to say in reply and suddenly she’s upon you. She’s not quite taller than you but she has an intense presence. You get your first good look at her and she’s pretty enough to make your stomach flutter. She’s still smiling like the cat who caught the canary and you briefly wonder if that makes you the canary.

She leans in teasingly and says, “Maybe next time.”

Before you can respond, her body flickers out of sight with a ghostly laugh. And you’re left with unfamiliar tension coiled in your body. You sigh and shake your head. Of course this was going to be weird.


	3. An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You dream of her and it's uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! this is just a quick little update to say that i haven't abandoned this and im working on future chapters!! as always, comments and feedback are super appreciated :)

You dream about her the next night. This isn’t exactly new territory; you’ve had quite a few dreams and nightmares centered around your first encounter with her. Except it is new territory because the tone of the dream has shifted into something more … uncomfortable to acknowledge. Something beyond the chaste interest you had previously had for her making itself known.

You jerk awake flushed and incredibly, inexplicably guilty. You sigh and almost feel embarrassed, as if she could possibly know about this. Maybe she did; the scope of her power had yet to be defined. You sigh again and roll over, uncomfortable with this new awareness of her.


	4. things go to shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader realizes the scope of danger she's in, as well as her mystery woman's name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a real update!!!

The scope of how much danger you’ve put yourself in finally rears its head several days later. It’s midmorning and you’re alone, at your favorite 24 hour diner. You’re mulling over her (again) over your breakfast. This time you’re wondering what her name might be. You think that it’s ridiculous to be this hung up on a woman who’s name you don’t even know.

A man slides into the booth across the table from you and you freeze. If you had to describe him, ‘nondescript’ would be the right word. His expression is cool and difficult to read.

You know that you’re truly and deeply fucked when he addresses you by name, pleasantly, as if you were friends. You swallow and run the math in your head. Escape seems unlikely at this point.

You press your lips together and try to pull together your composure, “Yes?”

He smiles and you feel sick, “You’re going to come with me.” he says. It isn’t a question. “And nobody else has to get hurt.”

Dread like you’ve never known before has crept into your throat and you cannot bring yourself to speak. Your gaze flickers around the crowded diner, tallying the potential body count. You look back at him and nod once.

“Good.” he says and gestures for you to stand, “After you.”

Slowly you stand and begin to walk out the diner. Numbly, you barely register the man following suit. Once outside you pause, assessing. You spy an alley not too far away and you make your decision. The man says something but already the adrenaline is roaring in your ears and you can’t hear him.

You bolt across the street, heedless of the potentially oncoming traffic. If you’re lucky, you think, maybe he’ll be hit by a car. If you’re unlucky, you’ll be hit by a car.

You’re still alive when your feet hit the pavement of the sidewalk on the other side of the street, but you don’t pause to celebrate. You run into the alley and don’t look back.

Very quickly you discover that this alley is a deadend. You’re too winded to swear and too busy racking your brain for another escape route.  
You hear the pounding footsteps at the mouth of the alley and you almost can’t bring yourself to turn around. You weren’t lucky and he didn’t get hit by a car, you think absently, watching him approach, your heart slamming in your chest.

A figure flickers into view before you, obstructing your view of the oncoming danger. You know instantly that it’s her even though she isn’t facing you. Your gut untenses, even if only fractionally. You’re still grimly aware of the odds against you.

She doesn’t turn to greet you, “Using civilians as bait, huh?” she calls out, unimpressed, “Pretty shitty.”

The man advances on her and you suck in a breath. He pulls a gun and she doesn’t even flinch, staring down the barrel.

“No banter, huh?” She says and you can’t see her face but you know she’s smiling in a way that isn’t friendly. He cocks the gun. “Guess not.” she says and a minute movement of her arm catches your eye.

Before you can work out what she’s doing, a shot rings out. And the man falls dead. And you’re both left standing.

“Ugh,” she says, annoyed but otherwise unaffected, and kicks the dead man, “I had it under control!” You’re not sure who she’s shouting at and you don’t know if the danger has passed. You realize absently that your hands are shaking so you fold them under your arms.

It’s then that your mystery woman turns to face you. She’s scowling but you can’t work out why.

“You good?” she says, putting a hand on her hip.

“What?” you say, dumbly.

She repeats her question, clearly uncomfortable and not used to… whatever this is. Care?

“No,” you say, indignation sparking in your chest, “Of course not!”

She grimaces and it’s clear that she had hoped that this would be simple, “Well, you’re not dead?” she offers.

You open your mouth to hiss something unfavorable in response but movement at the mouth of the alley draws your attention and you fall silent.

Your mystery woman follows your line of sight to the woman casually approaching and she   
whirls around.  
“Widow,” she greets in a sickly sweet voice.

“Sombra,” the woman greets her flatly. If you had to describe her, ‘elegant’ would be the first word that came to mind. ‘Cold’ would be the second.

“I had it under control.” Sombra says and you can’t help but think she sounds a touch… petulant.

“As you say.” Widow says, again with no infliction. Her eyes pass over from her apparent acquaintance to you. And back again.

“Why are you here? A mission?” Sombra crosses her arms, on the defensive now.

Widow looks back at you and a corner of her mouth quirks up, “No. I was simply … curious.”

Sombra glances at you over her shoulder and she looks strangely guilty, “Well, you have your answer.”

“I do.” Widow says. She looks at you appraisingly once more and you wonder what she’s looking for. Then she turns on her heel and leaves as casually as she came.

“Goodbye to you too.” Sombra mutters.


	5. in which Sombra broods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's a decision to be made and Sombra isn't keen to make it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, quick update to prove i haven't abandoned this! there's a POV shift in this chapter (from 2nd to 3rd)

Silence falls in the alley for a moment and you’re left wondering where to go from here.

Sombra doesn’t leave you to your thoughts for long. “Come on,” she says, facing away from you, “I’ll walk you home.” 

You’re struck by the inanity of the situation but you’re too shaken to comment. You follow her out of the alley.

Sombra drops the woman off at her apartment, murmuring something about seeing her later before leaving just as quickly. She’s still rattled and Sombra doesn’t do … care? Emotional maintenance? Whatever the proper name for it was, it makes her nauseous in a way she’d never admit to. Besides, she has scheming to do. 

Well, maybe it’s more like brooding. There isn’t much to scheme; she knows the available options. Take this into her own hands or pass the buck. Passing the buck would, ironically, be the right thing to do. Sombra knows this. She knows exactly what strings to pull to bring the woman to Overwatch’s attention. She’d be safe enough then. Overwatch is incompetent, sure, but the people gunning for Sombra right now are even more so. And then Sombra could wash her hands of it and carry on like she always does.

That’d be the easy way to do it. That’d be the woman’s best chance at surviving this. Sombra knows this.

But Sombra wants to be selfish. She wants to be the hero. She tries to chalk it up to unpaid debts or something, but it still doesn’t quite add up. She wonders scornfully if she’s going soft.

It’s not like her to hesitate like this, but here she was, going round and round in circles. Brooding.

Eventually, she makes the decision. And by then even she’s not so sure it’s the right one.


	6. do not go quietly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the reader steels her resolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! short update to assure y'all im continuing this!! long story short, i kind of wrote myself into a corner where i couldn't really see how to finish the story without either 1) Sombra being way too ooc or 2) it becoming too dark or depressing, but i brainstormed and i think i have a direction to go in now!
> 
> also, just a quick note, im probably going to rework some of the previous chapters! im not totally happy with how they flow

You don’t see or hear from her for days after the diner incident. You aren’t even sure if you’d want to. And, in your down time, you’re left to stew in your thoughts. Untangling the tightly knotted mess of feelings in your chest seems impossible. Mostly, though, you’re frustrated; with yourself, with her, with the circumstances in general. 

You wonder what this is going to cost you, in the end. But every time you replay the events in your head, you can’t work out a better path you could have taken. Ultimately, you think, you were the good samaritan in the wrong place at the wrong time. It strikes you how unfair it all is. You don’t allow yourself to wallow in it, though. 

Eventually, you come to a kind of resolve. You won’t die from this, and you wouldn’t let it haunt your every waking hour either. You won’t allow it. You steel yourself for what is to come.

You are going to seek Sombra out, taking the initiative this time. You refuse to be passive in this. This was your life and you are going to make it out. You are going to seek her out and then you’re going to make her give you the tools you needed to protect yourself.

For the first time since you met her, you sleep soundly, soothed by the knowledge that you would not go quietly.

The only question left on your mind was how to draw her out.


	7. the mouse draws out the cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the reader calls and sombra comes running

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter??? so soon??? unbelievable, i know!
> 
> i want to say thank you for all the kudos and comments and bookmarks!!! i might not respond to all of them, but i really love getting them and read them all!!

Your plan is extremely simple; almost ridiculously so. 

You go to the library, smiling politely at the ever vigilant omnic librarians as you make your way over to the public computers. They barely glance at you. You came during the busiest part of the day and there are few available.

Picking out someone at a computer in the back, you walk up to them, casual and calm.

“Excuse me,” you say, “One of the librarians is asking for you downstairs. Something about needing to update your information. They said it shouldn’t take long.”

They look at you for a moment, then back at their computer, obviously reluctant to give up their spot.

“I have a few minutes free; I could save your seat for you?” you offer.

Their eyes light up and you fight the guilt you feel in your chest, “Oh! Are you sure?”

You smile politely and nod.

“Thanks!” they say, hopping up and walking toward the elevator. 

You sit down and as soon as you’re sure they aren’t looking back, you open a new browser tab, careful not to close anything the previous occupant had open. 

‘SOMBRA’ you type into the search browser. ‘WE NEED TO TALK.’ Steeling yourself, you hit the enter key. Predictably, nothing relevant comes up, but you aren’t disappointed. You close the tab, taking care to delete the search history. You know that this will only hide your activity from the previous occupant.

Quietly you stand up, making your exit. You pray you haven’t endangered someone else’s life.

She’s standing outside the entrance when you exit, seemingly furious at being summoned. You almost laugh.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she says, voice low and annoyed.

You only smile and cross your arms. Your plan worked and you can’t help but feel a little smug.

“I have better things to do.” she says. And yet here she is. She’s almost pouting and you hate that you find it so … cute. 

“You owe me this much.” you say, and she deflates almost immediately. So, she must feel at least somewhat guilty. That would make the next part easier.

“Come on,” she says, no longer looking directly at you, “We should leave.” she doesn’t elaborate and she doesn’t need to. You know that people will come looking, and soon.

You nod and she leads you down the street. It’s a little unnerving, how easily you’ll follow her.

**Author's Note:**

> if you're interested in this being continued, feel free to comment and say so!


End file.
